


The Black Pearl

by Silver Blues (Andreinightleaf)



Category: Rockman X | Mega Man X
Genre: Battle Scene, Gen, Rain, Some angst, robot gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:02:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7919776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andreinightleaf/pseuds/Silver%20Blues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most Reploids knew who their creators were, recalled how they were born, stayed in contact with the person who gave birth to them, so to speak. But he... he didn't remember anything. (Prequel to The Human Effect, and technically Mega Man X7.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Black Pearl

   Nighttime in the city. Houses, apartment buildings, establishments, stores, all practically shining with lights turned on, creating an appearance of daylight in broad darkness. Classic and hover cars and motorcycles would cross the streets every now and then, and few streaks of people walked along the sidewalk. Diners were open, inviting people in, marketplaces working restlessly, office jobs allowing their employees to go home. The roads and pavements were clean, thanks to modern orderliness awareness, and the work of Reploid street-sweepers who took care of the few out-of-place waste objects. It had been an usual afternoon, and it was expected to be an usual night.

   Centuries past, the descent of the sun towards the horizon had been a warning; everyone was supposed to close their business for the day, return home, eat dinner, tuck their children into bed, and sleep. It was as if the entire day was over, as if time no longer existed between evening and morning, except for the view of a few rogues — pickpockets, thieves, prostitutes, and the homeless. They were the only ones who knew night personally, and might as well have been the sole people truly aware of its existence. The dark hours had always been a distinctness, a curse, the moment when monsters and demons lurked the shadowy corners and lightless forests. To wander into the woods at such a time was considered suicide; those who lived in them and welcomed the night were either magical creatures or witches. Wolves’ howls and owl chirping were omens of death, and the moon was a condemned gentleman, the alleged source of power of many shady beings.

   But all these myths were gone now. With the invention of electricity, a new age was ushered in, where night was recognized as merely an extension of day, not the work of devils. If monstrous beasts preyed in the shades? This was known as a child’s silly fear. “Nightlife” was a recognized expression, with many bars and clubs open and offering entertainment until the day dawned. There were 24-hour establishments, like drugstores, hospitals, and some stores. Birthday and marriage parties would happen in the evening, and even if people were tucked inside their homes after sunset, they still could be awake working or watching television to their heart’s content. Many jobs offered a nightshift, something that had only been heard of before when speaking about guards on patrol duty. Even teenagers could partake in that kind of work, and young adults were widely known as enjoying nightlife. There was nothing that stopped anyone in doing whatever they did during daylight, at night. The moon was no god; simply the planet’s natural satellite. By now, humanity had even built an elevator that reached towards it.

   And that was how the twentieth-second century was like. People still did most of their activities during the day and slept at some point in the night, yes, but fear was no more. Waking up suddenly and taking a walk in the dark was no longer seen with scrutinizing eyes; it was not considered “normal” either, but people would not be flabbergasted upon knowing about it. Slowly, the world was becoming more accepting, less prejudiced, but still there were selfish, greedy hearts that would cause chaos and destruction. When Reploids were created, there would be ones who would not tolerate it and wished to cause them harm.

   “I won’t let her harm you.” A male voice spoke, eerily even, but with underlying tremor. The man was young, maybe in his thirties, round glasses, brown hair wavy and chin-length, curled towards the ends, but it looked like it had not seen a hairbrush in days. A scientist’s garb covered his body, although in unusual colours, and it seemed light and casual underneath the grey lab coat. Yet, equally unkempt, as if he hadn’t had the time to look after himself in the past week. There were bags under his hazelnut eyes, a few creases on his features, and his pale hands gripped the steering wheel of the car he rode tightly. “I won’t… I… I think she’s still after us.”

   And who would the second person in this “us” be? In the back seat of the black car, there was a slight male, a Reploid, who didn’t seem to be entirely aware that there was another person speaking. He had black armour with a few red accents, grey underclothes, white gloves, a circular helmet of various colours (black, red, white) with white “wings” bending backwards, similar long white pieces that jutted from his back downwards, and two aquamarine-coloured gems, one in the middle of his chest and another on the front of his helmet. His hair was auburn, long and semi-spiked in the ends, laid out mostly outwards. Because of the headpiece, it was not possible to see the strands on the head. His eyes were verdant, but they seemed to be lifeless; no pupils, opaque. There was no light, no shadow, no emotions whatsoever in them. He was sitting down, but that also seemed to have happened by sheer luck, because he could not recognize he was in a moving car, where he was going.

   At this point in the night, there were few vehicles on the streets, few people walking around. Most people had already gone home, the majority of establishments had closed for the day. It was a tranquil, uneventful night, to anyone but them.

   “I didn’t think she’d be so relentless.” The human confessed in a sharp exhale. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she sped up and attempted to crash her car into ours. I have to foil her somehow…” Think, think, think… what could he do in a situation like this? Her car was not immediately behind them, but still, she was there somewhere. He’d never been chased in his life; playing tag as children was nothing like this. He’d never had secret admirers. No criminal record. But then, after a flurry of events in his and his professor’s life, he’d almost had no choice but to do what he did. And the result was this. “How are you holding up, Axl?” He sent a glance to the back seat.

   No response. Besides a minimal head movement, there was nothing. And the researcher almost sighed, but pulled on through; regardless if the other was conscious or not, it still comforted him to have someone to talk to. They barely had had any time together, but alas, this would probably be the last time they’d see each other. He held onto the hope that the Reploid would remember his words, even if not at first. So he still talked.

   Looking up at the traffic lights he passed through, and then through the rearview mirror, he noted that the light had turned red and all vessels behind him stopped. His heart jumped; this was his chance! Quickly, he turned onto another road, and then turned again into an alleyway that his car barely fit into. The path ahead narrowed, so there was no way forward, only back. Anxiety seeping even further into him, he turned off the engine, unlocked the vehicle and almost banged the door against the wall when he opened it, in his nervousness. He closed the door, and opened the one in the back passenger’s seat instead. “Come with me, Axl, it’s time to go.” It was spoken softly, words shaky. The night air was cold and unforgiving, dark clouds looming above, threatening a storm. He didn’t want to leave the other in this harsh environment, but he had no other choice. If the woman found him, he would be in danger. So he gently took the younger’s wrist, whose head turned towards him, but it didn’t seem like he understood he was supposed to move. Because of that, the man had to pull him until he was with both feet out the door, on the floor, and he slowly squeezed through the space between his car and the wall, closing the door, guiding the stumbling Reploid along. It was at least ten metres into the alley when the robot, called Axl, buckled to the floor, and the brunet did not have the heart to make him walk anymore. With the sitting form of the other, he crouched, sliding his busy hand down to give a squeeze to the gloved hand.

   “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry this had to happen to you.” He whispered, swallowing thickly. “It was Man’s thirst to advance even further into technology that brought you to this world. It wasn’t meant to be like this.”

   Thunder echoed above them, and a lone water droplet fell on the auburn-haired male’s nose, who blinked.

   “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I cannot apologize enough to you, Axl…” The older worried, feeling sorrow overcome him, closing his eyes.

   “Axl…?”

   Soon, though, hazelnut eyes shot open, looking in surprise at the Reploid. That dulcet, young voice could only have come from him, even if the verdant eyes were still lightless.

   And indeed, it was his lips who moved when he spoke. “You called me… Axl. Is that my name?”

   Such innocence. Few days into this world; it made the scientist feel much worse about the fact he couldn’t properly take care of him. “Yes, that is your name. You’re Axl. You were created by me.” A little smile adorned his lips, because at least, he had heard the other talk before they would part ways. Because he wanted to comfort him about what was going to happen next. The gloved fingers twitched in his grasp. “You are a prototype, a prototype of a Reploid with DNA-copying abilities. However, I am afraid that I have no time to perfect that part of you… I was not even able to see if it worked at all… Things were not meant to have ended up like this, my son. We have no time. I must go.”

   More drops fell along the stones of the alley, against the walls, and soon, it was raining. People opened their umbrellas, or the least prepared simply ran inside buildings for shelter. However, the two of them did not move.

   The armoured one tilted his head, an attempt at an expression in the moving of his eyebrows, but it seemed almost painful. “You’re leaving…?”

   The man felt tears sting in the back of his eyes, but he did not want to cry, not yet. His gaze was heavy, but he tried to allow determination into his irises. “Yes. I have to leave. It’s for your own safety. We might never see each other again, but I don’t want you to worry about me, okay?” The clock was ticking; he squeezed the other’s hand again, this time with a feeble squeeze back as a response. “You must live, Axl. Live the life I’ve never had. No one can take that away from you.” And then, he let go of him, thunder booming across the skies, a stray tear finally falling, though it was undiscernible from the rain water on him. “Farewell, my son.”

   Images were blurry to Axl, but he could see the figure of the researcher walking away, getting into the car, and the vessel leaving. Slowly, he reached out a hand towards it, but it was too late, and his arm just fell away into his side, light consciousness slipping him.

 

   “Hey, who do you think is that Reploid over there?” A gruff voice spoke, another Reploid gesturing to the one sitting in the alleyway. “Just there, doing nothing in the rain. Are they homeless?”

   “Better watch your mouth, little princess.” Another gruff speech came up, this time from a more female voice. “After all, ‘the beggars are people too’!” This last sentence was spoken in the most high-pitched, teenager-y way as possible, as the Reploid in question put her hands on her hips, drawing a laugh from her partners.

   “Perhaps we should teach them to not ruin the picture of our beautiful city.” A smooth, male voice piped in, its owner holding out a thick beam blade and giving it an experimental swing.

   “Ohh, I love showing sore sights who’s boss!” A female Reploid with a sing-song tone fist-pumped the air, obviously excited about this new opportunity.

   In the alley, Axl was soaked by now, auburn strands drooping slightly with the added weight of water. Verdant eyes were still hazy, pupil-less, awareness barely gracing his senses. He hardly had any consciousness to even think deeper than broken sentences, faded ideas. It was as if time didn’t pass for him, even though he’d probably been sitting there for a few hours in the least. When would this lightheadedness stop…?

   “Yo, punk, who do you think you are to disgrace the city with your sorry presence?” The rough Reploid woman appeared in the edges of his vision, but he moved his head only slightly.

   “It seems like he’s not even awake…” The frivol Reploid man pointed out upon inspecting his eyes, and made a gesture that showed that he was fearful.

   “What a creep. Well, better for us, because he won’t be much of a fight!” The flamboyant Reploid girl clasped her hands together.

   “Allow me to do the honours. Let’s see if you like… this!” The buff Reploid male drew his hand in a fist, and pulled his arm back to throw a strong punch to the seemingly lethargic robot’s head.

   There was a lot of dust that rose up from the cracked wall, but with the rain, it soon cleared up, only to show that the fist had not connected to the auburn-haired one at all. It was right above his head, while his listless eyes were half-lidded now, as if he seemed to be unimpressed.

   Needless to say, the group was surprised, because they hadn’t expected an apparently malfunctioning Reploid to be able to dodge such an attack. It almost terrified them.

   “Hey, you… you’re making fun of me?! Well, that was slow of me, deadface! Take this instead!” The big robot punched his way again, but this time there wasn’t enough dust to obscure their vision, and it was visible that the other had managed to dodge, again.

   “Haranna, you’re out of shape! Watch me!” With a yell, the big female threw her own punch, this time aimed at the slight Reploid’s stomach, but the latter did a cartwheel to the side, avoiding the attack entirely, and then standing up.

   “You… don’t touch me.” Axl breathed out, voice eerily even. His eyes were still lifeless, half-lidded.

   The four others shared looks, and three of them simply snarled.

   “Let me show you how it’s done.” The narcissistic male huffed, pointing his nose upward, wielding his beam blade and then charging at the younger.

   The latter avoided the first two swings by dodging to the sides, but then a sharp pain registered as the sword cut into his face between his eyes, and he stumbled back a bit, delayed just enough that a second slash ran diagonally across the wound, creating an X-shaped scar into his skin. He jumped back, panting at the feeling of pain, but he had dodged soon enough before that the beam had not actually cut into metal. Seeing that there was no way out of this, he got into a fighting stance, even though he had no weapons on him at the moment.

   “Did that hurt?” The other Reploid cooed, brandishing his sword in a teasing way. He had no time to react, though, because soon the black-armoured male was by him, and he had no time to dodge as a leg connected to his side, crushing his own armour and making him howl in pain and buckle to the floor.

   “Rrraaagh! I won’t let you push my friend around like this!” The vain female Reploid growled, gripping her poleax tightly as she charged at him, and with a full swing of her weapon, Axl yanked the beam blade from the male’s grasp and did a somersault backwards, narrowly avoiding the sharp end. Their wielding objects clashed repeatedly, provoking a few bursts of light, bodies twisting in a display of their skill. Eventually, the auburn-haired one was able to cut the surface of her abdomen, eliciting a yelp, but then the large man was running towards him, and he couldn’t continue his assault, jumping back a few meters. His eyes were still intimidatingly half-lidded, no expression crossing his young features, raindrops pouring on his form and sliding down the newly-formed scar. Lightning cracked above, lighting up the skies.

   Roaring, the punch the big guy formed was aimed upwards, between his opponent’s legs, and it seemed like it would connect, but the slight male jumped and twisted his body in the air so that he would have enough momentum and strength in his arms to slash the sword towards the other’s own arm, and when he landed smoothly on the wet ground, one knee connecting with it at first, there was a yowl of pain from behind him, a thud on the stone as the electrified arm of the bear hit it, separated from its body.

   Terrified, the other three contemplated running, but that was soon wiped from their minds as their friend tried fighting back again. Together, they could defeat this mysterious figure. Nodding at each other, they all advanced on him at once.

   The feet splashing on the puddles were enough warning for Axl, who blocked another punch with the guard of the blade and then swooped his upper body down and backwards, avoiding the tip of the poleaxe. He had no breathing space, for the thinner Reploid with a crushed side tried to steal his weapon back, but he elbowed him hard in the face to stun him in the very least. And then there was a punch from the buff female, so he spread his legs forward and backward and hit his crotch on the ground to dodge it, then used his hands as leverage to lift himself upside down and drive a foot into the woman’s face, a distinct cracking sound being heard, and to make sure she would stay down, he activated his leg jets to blow fire into her features. It couldn’t have been for long, though, because the other three were still preying on him even as the female bear fell down, and he used the strength in his arms to propel himself into a jump beyond the remaining gruff’s standing body. Panting, now he was in a better position to take them all on.

   A scream of rage came from the buff he’d just jumped over, who was not short in packing another fist towards him, this time coming from above and aiming down with little room for dodging. But the auburn-haired male was much smaller than him, so he didn’t move from his place, as if ready to receive the hit, but readied his arms enough so that, when the punch came down, he was almost caught in it as he dodged forward and brought the beam blade up in a vertical arc, utilizing enough force that the beam tore through the other’s entire body, effectively cutting him in half.

   Moving forward to avoid the explosion, he ran towards a flabbergasted Reploid girl, who didn’t have enough time to avoid the sword that penetrated her under her chest, and he cleanly cut the sides entirely so she would also be halved, only horizontally, and then as she fell down to the ground, he twirled to gain momentum to strike down the blade across her neck, beheading her to assure she would not rise again.

   Listless verdant eyes then darted to the remaining Reploid, the frivol male, who was trying to run away in a half-limp, and maybe he’d ask for backup. Axl stood up, then sped towards him, but wasn’t able to reach him before the man had walked into the middle of the street. With a high jump, at least three-stories high, he forced his weight down in a quick descent right above the other, blade going into the robot’s head from the top until the hilt. The buzzing and electric jolts started immediately, and he moved to the ground and wobbled as his feet hit it, then ran into the alleyway again as the explosion occurred.

   Police sirens rang across the city. The remaining Reploid, the victor of the fight, didn’t care, however; he just ran, ran across the turns of the extended passageways, breath heavy, droplets raining down from his hair and limbs, body heated and pained. He only stopped when he couldn’t run anymore, not knowing if it was near or far, collapsing to the ground, and dragging himself towards the wall to sit against it. It hurt, it hurt—he swallowed thickly, then gasped out, bringing gloved fingers to feel the agony ringing on the scar he’d gained. Why did this have to happen? Did he deserve this? Who… who was he?

 

   The Lifesaver Reploids and policemen inspected the battle scene, sending reports over to their respective offices. Completely mutilated, the remains they saw had no hope of salvation. Metal bits, chips, burnt parts, vestiges of explosions. There were weapons on the ground; a poleaxe, and a beam blade. Whoever was here might not be a civilian victim; they all knew how to fight.

   Red watched the inspection go with certain curiosity; who could have caused this? Or had they all died in battle? No, it couldn’t be; the job had to have been done by someone of major skill. To be able to cut apart their opponents like that… There was a part to this story that was missing, and the pale-haired male simply yearned to find out. The closest “victim” had perished in the middle of the street, but there was a trail of destruction into the alleyway, where the investigators also had gone, yet— he noticed how they had gone no further, because the trail simply stopped.

   Looking into the depths of the twisted alley, Red wondered what he’d find if he kept going. Nothing, a mass-murderer, or a very powerful threat. Mentally shrugging off his own safety, he evenly walked through the narrow passages, taking the turns carefully, the sound of sirens fading out to an extent as the thunders kept echoing and the rain still poured.

   He hadn’t known what to expect. There was a slight, young, black-armoured Reploid sitting in the distance, seeming to be drained. Was this the cause of all that had gone on back there, or had he just found a homeless boy who happened to be nearby? Still, even if the latter was the case, he couldn’t be careful enough. His steps were cautious, slow, wary of drawing any negative reaction, and as he approached the relatively small one, he noted his pretty features, his unique design. And even closer, he could hear him panting, exhausted, but the other did nothing to even acknowledge his presence. Hesitantly, he knelt by his side, and his own features drew in surprise when he noticed the opaque, lifeless eyes of the Reploid. It didn’t seem like he was supposed to even be conscious, or aware of himself. There was something wrong with him. It felt like he was either about to deactivate, or had only recently been created by someone. But there were no real chipped armour parts, or broken, or crippled, only…

   The scar between his eyes. It was fresh, definitely, a tiny bit of smoke swirling out, only possible to have been made by a thick blade—just like the beam sword back in the battle arena. So this… this young, in the edge of consciousness Reploid, had been the one who defeated and retired all of the others? It was hard to believe. Robots like he was right now were supposed to be lethargic, not combat-ready. Much less with that great amount of skill.

   Red realized, that he might just have found himself the brightest pearl in the sea. A fragile, but beautiful pearl nonetheless. His gaze flitted around; nobody seemed to be nearby. Did he have friends? A family?

   “Hey…” He tried, attempting to not let amazement show in his voice. To his further surprise, the other actually looked up, though his verdant orbs were much the same, half-lidded. “I’m Red, leader of the soon-to-be-founded Red Alert. You look like you could need some help… What do you say, to me being your family now? I’ll take you in, and hide you from these people over there until you recover. Do we have a deal?”

   As the first thing he was met with was silence, he momentarily wondered if the auburn-haired male could even speak, but then a flick of a light appeared in his eyes, and then it was gone. “Red…?”

   “Yes, I’m Red. Nice meeting you.” He grinned with a closed mouth, and then insisted a bit, “And your name is…?” Honestly, seeing him all alone in the rain, drained, unaware of himself, made him feel like the boy needed to be protected and cared for. He might be the only person who could do this, right now. There was no way that he was letting the policemen get him.

   “…” The younger looked down for a moment, then up at him again. “Axl… My name is Axl.”

   Axl. Maybe this would be the dawn of a new age. Under his guidance and with this young Reploid in his force, Red Alert could become the new Maverick Hunters. Who knew. He just knew that he needed to raise Axl, make him learn about the ways of the world and how to fight for peace, making the best of his combat capabilities. As long as he was able to tend to his wounds and make him become normal, in a way, he’d be satisfied. Not even the fate of his organization seemed to be as important as taking care of him, right now. But he could as well be nurturing both, both their futures, and maybe, in the end, the world’s, too.

   Little did he know, these fleeting thoughts, little dabs into idealism, were not entirely wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, I have a lot of useless things to say. First, this entire fic was written in just a few hours, though I was inspired about it the whole day. I don't know if it's rushed or not (though 4,000 words seems kind of small, rip). This was the first time I wrote a battle scene seriously, so I hope it's not too bad. (Can you believe I actually hate gore?). Also the pre-fight with the four Reploids was p a i n f u l to write, I felt my brain cells kind of deteriorate with the no-depth dialogue. Cliché too. 
> 
> The fic might or might not spoil The Human Effect to an extent-- it kind of spoils things to come, though I tried to tone that down, since the longfic is a work in progress. Also, I didn't proofread all of it, so I might do that later, and make some small edits as necessary. Also might change the title, I just can't think of anything else right now (it's three a.m.). I'm just kind of getting a lot of plot bunnies right now? It's a good thing, considering I had a freak out yesterday because of a choice I had to make to either go on or drop an idea in The Human Effect, haha. Guess I'm still able to write after all.


End file.
